


Some Days

by kla1991



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Depression, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 12:07:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kla1991/pseuds/kla1991
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some days, Myka is the only presence Helena can bear without aching.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Days

The Warehouse family has adjusted to the reality of Helena. 

Steve Jinks has caught up with the facts of her existence and latched on to her English origins as an opportunity to share tea. They sip it together, experimenting with concoctions the others turn their noses up at because of the smell, and sit mostly in silence, unless they trade thoughts on Claudia’s latest escapades. 

Helena rides with Claudia to pick up their medications together, and she offers technical advise on those experiments least likely to cause trouble. She and Steve agree that telling Claudia not to try something is like telling Myka not to think. They found the girl a pair of goggles and gloves and left it at that. 

“Will I get another gold star?” Helena asked the first time Artie barked an order at her, and he stared at her a moment, the quirked lips and raised eyebrow, and wondered who had explained that old sarcastic barb to her. The next order he gave her was almost gentle, at least for Artie. 

Pete has come upon her more than once at midnight, shaking and trying to unstick her shirt from her sweat-soaked back in the kitchen. Sometimes she forgets her house shoes. Barefoot on the tile floor, she clenches her teeth to stop them chattering. Her water boils on the stove, and she stands close to the heat and watches Pete wordlessly unwrap and devour six-inch sub sandwiches. The meal vanishes often in the time it takes for Helena to prepare her tea, and she and Pete make their drowsy way upstairs together, he to his bed and she to Myka’s. He never asks about her nightmares; for this, Helena is grateful.

Like Claudia’s effusiveness and the way Pete whines when he’s hungry, the little family makes space for Helena’s moods. Most days, this is enough. There are other kinds of days, however, when Claudia’s overtures for adventures are met with exhausted rejection, Steve’s quiet company leaves him feeling alone and ignored, and Pete avoids Helena entirely because his boyish cajoling receives the same muted irritation as Leena’s worried looks. Myka is the only presence Helena can bear without aching on these days. 

“What do you need?” she whispers, and when Helena shakes her head, Myka settles on the couch with her legs tucked under her and holds an arm out. Helena slumps down and shuffles about until the ache in her joints is bearable. Pressing her cheek down until Myka’s pants leave an imprint and wrapping her arms around Myka’s leg grounds her. Whatever Myka’s doing, she carries on, petting Helena’s hair when she has a free hand. Sometimes, writing a report or turning the page of a book causes her to brush her arm across Helena’s head, and that is soothing, too. 

Myka doesn’t mind if Helena fidgets and sighs or if she falls asleep, even if she drools, or if she cries. She doesn’t move until Helena sits up.

It is not enough. Helena wakes up aching faintly still, bleary and sad, and Myka doesn’t ask her to be well again. Even if she were, even the next day, when she is, another day like this will come. That isn’t what matters. 

What matters is that she can curl up on Myka’s lap, despair causing her knees and elbows and knuckles to grind, and she can be in pain and still be safe. Helena is far away from herself, but Myka is there. She can feel her, warm and sturdy to be clung to. 

The next day, the day that is better, Helena knows because her senses return, and the first thing she is aware of is the green in Myka’s eyes, the taste of her lips, the smell of apples clinging to her skin.


End file.
